


A Coward's Bravery

by TriBreedScion



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:21:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriBreedScion/pseuds/TriBreedScion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little one off that my Odin muse demanded I write after Doyle's big sacrifice. I may add in another chapter later of a friend and I RP'ing the bit after this ends between my Odin and their Doyle muses once it's "story-fied."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Coward's Bravery

_"But to tell the truth...I don't think he said it..."_

A bright light flashed and Donald squinted his eyes shut. He expected...he wasn’t certain what he’d been expecting. Pain, perhaps? Nothingness? What the reluctant General hadn’t been expecting was a sudden sensation of floating and someone’s arms around him.

Up they flew, over the smoking remnants of what used to be Armonia. He craned his head, trying to see who held him, and gave a gasp of surprise to see an armor clad woman bearing him aloft with a pair of large, white, wings. An angel, perhaps? Though, he’d never heard of an armored angel. She smiled at him, but said nothing as she continued higher.

Up, out of the atmosphere, they flew. Was that...the pelican? It was; there was Lopez in the pilot’s seat. He knew no one was terribly upset at the loss of such a pathetic excuse for a soldier. They still had Miss Kimball, after all. They would be just fine.

Donald lost track of how long they flew. Eventually, they passed into a bright light of some sort and all sensation and thought fled him. When he came to, once more, he found himself laying on what felt like solid ground in the midst of an encompassing white fog.

“H-hello? Is anyone there?” he called hesitantly into the emptiness. No voice answered him. He strained, hoping to hear...anything. After a moment he caught the slightest hint of noise. After a moment’s hesitation (What else could anything to do him? He was already dead, after all.) he headed toward the noise.

The sounds grew louder as he drew nearer, becoming easier to identify. Sounds of laughter, of celebration, of singing. Louder they grew as he continued. Eventually, a shape began to emerge from the fog- something resembling a large wooden, building.

Just as he drew close enough to see the doors, they swung open with a heavy thud. He yelped in surprise alarm, jumping back nearly a foot. In the doorway- illuminated by the light from within- stood a large man, larger than any Donald had ever seen, draped in animal furs and grasping a sturdy staff in one hand. With an exuberant burst of laughter he extended his arms, smiling broadly.

“Welcome, Donald Doyle, to the Halls of Odin! Welcome home, to Valhalla!” he declared boisterously.

 

 


End file.
